Then we went to bed and I pretended I was only pretending to be interested in this woman in such a way people would think I really was, with her warm back against mine. I hadn’t had a bed partner in years, and that had been my then-little girl. The last adult partner was even more years.
During the days, I took a few more potentials off the list here and there. Some were definitely not targets. Either removing them would put someone more potentially dangerous in place, or destabilize something. While I was sure Randall could do multiple hits, his M.O. was one, then move. Rushing to get multiples would be risky. Of course, he might elect to start doing that. He hadn’t so far, though. Some I deleted on gut feeling. They were potent and had enemies, but had enough friends that killing them would generate support for them and ill will for any competitor trying to benefit after the fact.
By three days out I narrowed it down to one hundred twenty-six people who might be worth killing for enough money, and who might have enemies with that kind of money.
I leaned back, sighed and rubbed my eyes.
“Dan,” she said.
I stretched and looked over. We were traveling as Dan and Cynthia Charles.
“Can I offer some advice?”
“Please,” I said.
“You’ve been alone for a decade. It shows. You’re instantly edgy around anyone else, and can’t share. You also can’t express yourself.”
“Probably,” I agreed. I’d been expecting commentary on my list. Not on that.
“This is a nice ship, and it’s culturally Freehold, not just a flag of convenience.”
“Right. And?”
“Go spread someone,” she said.
I blinked.
“You need company, and you need to unwind. Go to the spa, take a div, and get your head back on a bit straighter.”
I almost blushed. Not because I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed not to have thought of it. Also, that I was so obviously having trouble with people.
“Keep the advice coming,” I said.
Yeah, that was a good idea. I got away from her, which was good for all kinds of reasons, and I got some physical sensations and synaptic rushes that really did help.
The spa had real leafy plants, wood veneers and scented air with attractive people in tasteful form-fitting clothes and elegant accessories. It offered everything from plunge to massage to fairly exotic sex. All I needed was human companionship, and that was easy enough.
I feel guilty about one thing. Bjirka, as she was known professionally, seemed to have a pretty good time herself. I wasn’t sure if it was real or an act; either was possible. However, I kicked in Boost and three segs later I knew it wasn’t an act. Every muscle in her body cramped and spasmed and her grin was still a meter wide when I left. They’d counted our doses on active duty, so we never got to try that. Physically, I got a bit more thrill from it. Psychologically, it was very satisfying. As they say in show business, always leave them wanting more. She was pretty much annihilated.
The part I felt guilty about was that I’d picked her because she looked a bit like Silver. It was a grudge fuck by proxy.
I felt even more guilty when I got back to find Silver had ruled out three more possible targets.
However, I was able to sleep better, and I was more relaxed. Actual human contact is necessary to mental well-being.
The jump between systems was as disorienting as I remembered, and I was out of practice. My reflexes and coordination were shot, and I had trouble even standing. A nap straightened me out, but it was annoying. Silver had no significant problems.
A few potential targets left system during our transfer. We crossed those off. One other came home. One made a large charitable contribution, which didn’t take him off the list, but did make him someone to consider separately. A generous martyr taken out of the way could be used for a pity option for further fundraising. That had been done politically in one very high-profile case a couple of centuries earlier. I expect it had been done more than once.
I availed myself of the spa once more before we reached orbit. Once down I’d have no such options. Silver and I were a married couple, and we needed to be a boring, unremarkable married couple. Visiting brothels, no matter how classy, would stand out in the oddly conservative culture of Caledonia. They’re modern and casual about sex in general, but marriage is very important. There wouldn’t be any stigma, being offworlders, but it would still be commented on. Discretion was great cover.
We transferred to their insystem shuttle. Very nice. The couches were comfortable, padded for extra support, and the services were all voice or touch controlled. It was a brand new Lola Aerospace AtmoSurf 5, in pale blue and white. There was no skywhip, which is part of why they use the Surfers. We went down in a series of graceful, dipping glides, a couple of sharp skilike turns, and a long, screaming approach. It was slower, but more interesting than a skywhip insertion.